


Six Thousand Years

by lalaland666 (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Fluff and Smut, I figured six thousand years was long enough, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, The pining is short, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 03:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lalaland666
Summary: The Apocaloops just passed, leaving a particular angel and demon to sort out their feelings with all the time left in the world





	Six Thousand Years

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice to me this is my first time writing any fanfiction, let alone smut haha

The bus ride back to London was largely silent, spent staring out the windows at the passing scenery. Neither of them was entirely sure how it had been decided that Aziraphale would indeed be spending the night at Crowley’s flat. It had just sort of… happened. 

When they arrived, Crowley led Aziraphale upstairs, past the slightly quivering plants and into the sparse living quarters– nothing there but a desk and chair and, in the next room over, a single bed. 

“I have pyjamas you can borrow if you’d like,” said Crowley, sauntering over to the hidden wardrobe, feeling the way the angel’s eyes panned over everything. 

“It’s so… empty,” Aziraphale said. “How do you live like this?” 

“I don’t spend much time here,” said Crowley, shrugging and throwing open the wardrobe. “Now, what sort of pyjamas do you like?” 

“Pyjamas? How can you possibly think of sleep at a time like this?” asked Aziraphale. 

“What do you mean, a time like this?” 

“Heaven and Hell won’t stand for what we’ve done. You heard Gabriel and Beelzebub. They’ll come after us. We need to figure out what we’re going to do, or we’ll never survive.” 

It took every ounce of strength Aziraphale had in him to swallow back the last sentence, the one he’d wanted to say so many times over the millennia. I can’t lose you. 

Crowley had gotten to be very good at hiding his emotions over the last six thousand years, and yet it still took every ounce of self control he had to not react every time Aziraphale said “we”. 

Shaking himself, Crowley responded. “Haven’t you heard the saying ‘sleep on it?’ That’s what I’m gonna do. If you’d like, you can come join me. Anything I have is yours.” 

Crowley turned to see Aziraphale, staring at him with those wide, bright eyes, a slight pink flush to his cheeks. 

“Do you… do you happen to have any books anywhere in here?” the angel asked. 

Crowley nodded and pointed to his single bookcase, slightly hidden amongst the plants, then snapped himself into his pyjamas. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d sleep on the issue at hand. Besides, the way Aziraphale was looking at him… if he was asleep, he couldn’t feel those eyes. 

It took Crowley far longer than usual to fall asleep, hearing Aziraphale’s breathing in the room beside him. 

### 

“Crowley! Crowley, wake up!” 

The demon jolted awake to see Aziraphale, standing beside his bed, his coat off and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Crowley sat up, instantly awake. It took everything in him to push down the flush rising to his cheeks at the sight of the angel like this. 

“What is it, angel?” 

“I’ve figured it out,” said Aziraphale, holding out a tiny scrap of paper. The prophecy. 

“Figured it out?” 

“We need to choose our faces wisely, yes? So what if we wore each others’ faces? Up until Heaven and Hell find us?” 

Crowley blinked. “Will that work? What if they still kill us?” 

“They can’t, not if we’re switched,” said Aziraphale, sitting down on the edge of Crowley’s bed. 

Crowley felt his heartbeat speed up to what he would have thought was an impossible rate. 

Aziraphale continued, oblivious. “Think about it. What’s the only thing that can kill a demon? Truly, permanently destroy them?” 

“Holy water,” said Crowley. 

“But I can’t be hurt by holy water,” said Aziraphale. “Right?” 

Crowley nodded, slowly, the beginnings of the plan beginning to crystallize in his mind. “So if Hell picks you up, thinking you’re me, and tries to use holy water on you, it won’t work.” 

Aziraphale grinned, clapping his hands together. “Exactly. And the same thing with hellfire– it would destroy any angel, but you’d be impervious to it. It wouldn’t hurt you.” 

“So we need to switch places,” said Crowley. “When should we do it?” 

“The sooner the better, I presume,” said Aziraphale. “I’ve no idea when they’ll try to come for me.” 

“Same.” Crowley frowned. “There’s a lot that could go wrong in this plan.” 

“They just can’t figure it out,” said Aziraphale. “They can never figure it out.” 

Crowley nodded. “Big risk to take.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

Then Aziraphale said, “I do think… we’ve known each other for long enough that it shouldn’t be too hard to mimic the other. Six thousand years I’ve known you, and you’re still the same.” 

“I take offense to that, angel,” said Crowley. “I like to think I’ve changed quite a bit.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “Your clothes change every season, but you, you’re always the same.” He paused, just for a second, unsure how much to say. “That’s not a bad thing. What you are isn’t bad.” 

Crowley flinched. “I’m a demon, angel. All I am is bad.” 

“I think today has proven, irrefutably, that that’s not true,” said Aziraphale. 

There was a long moment of silence, and Aziraphale was struck by the sudden urge to reach out, to touch Crowley in some way. 

Before he could act on that impulse, Crowley spoke. “Even if you’re not going to sleep, come lie down with me. Just for a little. Relax some. We can switch places in the morning.” 

Aziraphale felt his heart skip a beat. Crowley shifted over in the bed, and the angel slid in, settling down against the pillows. 

His hand slid down, his fingers intertwining with Crowley’s. 

The demon scooted closer, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice how warm he was, how even in those silk pyjamas he smelled like leather and campfires and a touch of red wine. Slowly, afraid with every motion that he’d somehow mess it up, Aziraphale released his grip on Crowley’s hand and moved his head down to lean against Crowley’s shoulder, his other hand coming to rest gently on top of the demon’s chest, feeling his heart beat deep inside. 

Crowley sighed, softly, a gentle sound reminiscent of the voice that Aziraphale knew, deep inside, that Crowley only ever used with him. 

For the first time in six thousand years, Aziraphale fell asleep. 

###

Crowley awoke to find that the bed next to him was empty, once again. Empty, but still warm. 

He opened his eyes, shaking the sleep off and sitting up. Aziraphale sat on the end of the bed, his sleeves still rolled and his jacket still on the table. The wrinkles had rather miraculously vanished from his clothes. 

“Angel?” asked Crowley. 

Aziraphale turned, and upon seeing Crowley, his whole face lit up, smiling that smile that took Crowley all the way back to six thousand years ago. 

Six thousand years, when Crowley was still newly fallen, still angry and bitter, still willing to do anything to spite God. And then he’d met this angel, this angel who had disobeyed orders from the Almighty Herself and given away his sword to help someone– not just anyone, someone God had cast out and abandoned. And then, minutes later, that same angel has shielded him from the first rain, protecting him the same way as he’d protected the humans. 

The first time Crowley fell was from Heaven, for asking all those questions. The second was then, on that wall. 

“Crowley!” said Aziraphale, smiling. “Good morning. You weren’t wrong, sleep is rather nice. A bit of a waste of time, but overall, not a horrible experience.” 

“What’d I tell you?” said Crowley, smiling and climbing out of bed before snapping back into his regular outfit. “Are you ready to switch?” 

“Oh, let me just–“ Aziraphale quickly unrolled his sleeves and rugged his jacket back on. “Right, then. So, Adam reset reality, yes?” 

“That’s what you told me,” said Crowley, nodding. 

“So, theoretically, our things ought to be back,” said Aziraphale. “The bookshop and the Bentley.” 

Crowley blinked. “I… you’re right. If the Apocalypse never happened, I guess those things wouldn’t have, either.” 

“So, I ought to go and check on the bookshop, and you can–“ 

“No,” said Crowley, taking a step towards Aziraphale. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not going back to the bookshop until we know for certain we’re safe. They’ll be looking for you there, angel. They’d expect you to go back.” I can’t lose you. He didn’t say it out loud. There was so much unsaid. 

Aziraphale frowned. “I… I suppose you’re right. They’ll be watching the Bentley, then, too.” I can’t lose you. 

Crowley nodded. “So we switch now. I go check the bookshop for damage, you look over the Bentley, and we meet at noon for lunch in the park. Where we feed the ducks.” 

Aziraphale sighed. “I do suppose that’s probably smarter.” 

Crowley held out his hand, and after the briefest moment of hesitation, Aziraphale took it. It was time. 

### 

After their lunch at the Ritz, after surviving their trials– or, well, Aziraphale survived Crowley’s trial, and Crowley survived Aziraphale’s execution– Aziraphale and Crowley both climbed back into the Bentley. 

“Where to, angel?” asked Crowley, draping an arm over the wheel and looking over at Aziraphale. 

“The bookshop, please,” said Aziraphale. 

Crowley felt his stomach drop, ever so slightly. He had hoped… “Alright. I’ll drop you off.” 

“Who said anything about dropping off?” asked Aziraphale, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

Crowley grinned. “Right, then, let’s go.” 

They arrived a few minutes later, a few minutes sooner than Aziraphale would necessarily have liked, but that was alright. It was Crowley, after all. There were some things Aziraphale couldn’t stop him from doing, and ninety miles an hour in central London was one of those things. 

Aziraphale lead Crowley in, locking the door behind him. 

“Locking us in, angel?” asked Crowley, turning to face Aziraphale and leaning up against one of the little tables. 

“Locking the rest of the world out,” said Aziraphale. “We deserve some time to ourselves.” As he said it, he felt something in his stomach flutter, a feeling the humans would have called butterflies. Such a quaint name for such a queasy feeling. 

Pushing that thought to the back of his mind, Aziraphale shrugged off his coat and draped it over the chair at his desk, feeling Crowley’s eyes on him. 

“So, what now?” asked Crowley. 

Aziraphale sighed. “I think we need to talk.” 

Crowley’s stomach dropped again, an unpleasant sensation after having eaten, even as little as he did. “What about?” 

“About what happened,” said Aziraphale, forcing the words out through a throat seemingly desperate to close up on him. “What’s been happening.” 

“I thought we figured it all out during lunch,” said Crowley, his voice slow. If this conversation was headed where he thought it was headed, he was entirely unsure whether or not he wanted to stay for it. 

“No, not that,” said Aziraphale. “All of… this.” He gestured to the space between them. “Us.” 

“What about us?” 

Aziraphale paused. The words were hanging on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out at any second, but somehow, he couldn’t get himself to say them. 

Crowley stood across from him, and slowly, the realization hit. He knew what the angel was going to say. He knew what he was going to do. He had known, in some way or another, what was going to happen in this moment for more than six thousand years. 

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Crowley, I–“ 

Before he could finish the sentence, Crowley had crossed the space between them in two strides and kissed Aziraphale, his hands cupping the angel’s face and his narrow, hard lips pressed up against the angel’s soft, full ones. 

Aziraphale froze, just for a second. Then he was kidding Crowley back, hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper, trying desperately with every motion to make up for lost time. 

They stayed there for an eternity, never long enough, before Aziraphale pulled back, slightly breathless, and pressed his forehead to Crowley’s, their bodies still pressed up against one another, their arms around each other. 

Aziraphale reached up and pulled Crowley’s glasses off, setting them down on the desk beside him, staring up into the demon’s eyes, so bright, so colorful, his pupils so wide they were almost round. Snake eyes. Eyes of a demon. The most beautiful eyes Aziraphale had ever seen. 

“I love you,” said Aziraphale, his voice soft. “I’ve loved you... goodness, I don’t know how long I’ve loved you, but I’ve known it since that night in the church in 1941–“ 

Crowley couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Nineteen forty-one? No wonder! Go– Sat– Somebody, Aziraphale, I thought you’d known since the beginning. No wonder you said I went too fast.” 

Aziraphale just stared into Crowley’s face, the question in his eyes rather than on his voice. 

Crowley kissed him again, shorter, gentler, before pulling back. “I love you too, angel. I always have. Since that day, on the garden wall. I love you.” 

“That long?” asked Aziraphale, his voice soft. 

Crowley nodded. 

Aziraphale chucked slightly. “Only took us six thousand years to acknowledge it.” 

“That’s all right,” said Crowley, grinning. “We averted the Apocalypse. We’ve got all the time in the world.” 

There was a long silence. Neither of them moved. Neither of them wanted to. They stood there, pressed against one another, holding each other close, hip to hip, chest to chest, foreheads pressed together, noses slightly touching, sharing their space, their breath. 

They were free. They were together. 

Everything was all right. 

### 

Weeks later, Crowley awoke to see Aziraphale, laying beside him, eyes closed. He was asleep. 

Crowley smiled slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at the angel. It was rare for Crowley to be the first one awake– normally, Aziraphale only slept for an hour or two per night, if that. He looked so peaceful when he slept– like his mind had stopped racing for just a moment, like he finally had a moment to breathe. 

Crowley adjusted himself so that one arm was free and reached out to stroke the angel’s hair. Even after all these weeks, he was still always struck by just how soft Aziraphale’s hair was, the way it felt between his fingers. A part of him still didn’t believe it. Every time Aziraphale smiled at him, every time they touched, every time they kissed, Crowley was certain that he would wake up, find himself alone again in his flat, forced once more to do the bidding of the slimy bastards down below. 

Every single day since that lunch at the Ritz, since that kiss in the bookstore, they’d said “I love you” at least once, usually more, and every time they did, Crowley meant it more. He hadn’t thought it possible to love his angel any more than he had before, but somehow… 

Aziraphale stirred slightly, a small noise escaping from his lips, and Crowley pulled his hand back. 

“Crowley?” muttered Aziraphale, his eyes fluttering open. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, angel.” 

“It’s alright, dear,” said Aziraphale, scooting closer to Crowley and leaning his head up against the demon’s shoulder. “I was waking up anyways.” 

Crowley smiled slightly. It had been… hell, Crowley couldn’t even remember how long it had been that Aziraphale had called him “dear”, since the Middle Ages at least, and still, every time, it made him giddy to hear it. 

Aziraphale reached up and pulled Crowley down into a kiss, his fingers winding through Crowley’s hair. It had started to get long again; Aziraphale had said he liked it long. 

Crowley let his tongue slide slowly between Aziraphale’s lips, relishing in the taste of him, the taste of them, the warmth of their bodies pressed together. He wanted more– he had wanted more for six thousand years. But he could wait a little longer. He could wait as long as his angel needed. They had all the time in the world. 

They pulled apart after a long moment, and again Aziraphale rested his head against Crowley’s shoulder. “I love you, dear.” 

“I love you too, angel,” said Crowley, planting one more kiss on the angel’s forehead. 

### 

It was some time after midnight, and Aziraphale and Crowley were most of the way through a bottle of wine, together in the little flat Crowley had bought them above the bookshop– somewhere large enough for a bed and bright enough for Crowley’s plants, where they didn’t have to drive back and forth to get Aziraphale a new book every few hours. They were pressed together on the couch, Crowley’s arm around Aziraphale’s shoulder, a glass of wine balanced clumsily in his other hand. 

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, reaching up to remove the demon’s sunglasses. 

“I still don’t understand why you wear these things around me,” said Aziraphale, letting the glasses drop to the floor somewhere, his voice quiet as he stared up into those eyes, the colour bleeding out into the white, the pupils narrowed from the wine. “You know you never have to hide from me.” 

Crowley chuckled. “Well, I don’t understand why you still wear clothes around me, and yet–“ As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Crowley wanted to take them back. Too fast. It was too fast– 

Aziraphale reached up with one hand and pulled Crowley’s head down for a kiss, sliding his tongue in, pulling the demon down deeper. Crowley nearly dropped the wine glass in an effort to put it down, his hands reaching to grab hold of Aziraphale’s waist, pulling him in closer. 

Slowly, Aziraphale’s free hand reached around Crowley’s waist, sliding up slowly under his shirt, his hands warm against Crowley’s bare skin. 

Crowley felt his entire body shiver involuntarily at the contact, and it took everything in him not to flush with embarrassment. 

Aziraphale pulled back, his hand sliding back out from under Crowley’s shirt. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want–“ 

“Angel, I want you to do that,” said Crowley, pulling Aziraphale’s hand back up, forcing down another shiver. “I want you to touch me and I want you to kiss me and I want anything and everything you want to do with me. I want you.” 

Aziraphale kissed Crowley again, his fingers digging into Crowley’s back, holding him tightly, before pulling back just enough to speak. “I want you, Crowley. I want to be with you.” He kissed Crowley again, his other hand sliding down to join the first against Crowley’s back, and Crowley mimicked his movement, letting his hands slowly untuck the angel’s shirt and slide up against his sides, caressing, pulling him closer. 

They toppled slowly to the side, suddenly in the bedroom, Crowley landing on top of Aziraphale. Aziraphale pushed Crowley’s shirt up, and Crowley pulled back long enough to pull the top off before bending down to undo Aziraphale’s buttons. 

“Crowley, I–“ Aziraphale began, his breath coming more quickly now. 

Crowley paused, his fingers still playing around Aziraphale’s collarbone. “What is it, angel?” 

Aziraphale cleated his throat. “I don’t… I… I’ve never…” 

Crowley froze. “This is your first time?” 

Aziraphale nodded. 

Crowley let his hand fall flat against Aziraphale’s chest, his other hand just above the angel’s shoulder, propping him up. “Are you sure you want to do this now? I don’t want you drunk for your first time, I was and–“ 

“I’m not drunk,” said Aziraphale. “Not any more than you. And I want this. Now.” 

“Are you certain?” 

Aziraphale nodded, his light eyes boring into Crowley’s. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.” 

Crowley bent down again, kissing Aziraphale, deeper than ever before, his hands deftly worrying the buttons on Aziraphale’s shirt and tugging it off. Aziraphale wove his fingers back through Crowley’s hair and moaned softly. Crowley could feel the angel, straining towards him. 

Crowley reached down to begin unbuttoning Aziraphale’s pants, and the angel gasped, his hands tensing on Crowley’s head, pulling slightly on his hair. 

“Do you want–“ 

“Don’t you dare stop, Crowley,” breathed Aziraphale, his voice heavy with desire. 

Crowley grinned, bending down to kiss the angel’s neck, one hand still planted above his shoulder, the other working on his fly. These stupid old-fashioned trousers. Impossible to get off. 

Slowly, Aziraphale’s hands slid back down Crowley’s sides, sliding underneath his waistband, and Crowley shivered at the touch, feeling pure joy radiating off himself from wherever Aziraphale’s hands had been. He’d waited for so long… 

Aziraphale gasped as the stupid fly finally popped open, and Crowley began to touch him, still through the fabric of his pants. 

“You alright, angel?” asked Crowley, his hand pausing just above the mass, his own pants uncomfortably tight. 

Aziraphale nodded, his breath quick, his pulse quicker, and he reached around to fumble in turn with Crowley’s fly, prompting an almost painful throb from his cock. 

“What do you want me to do?” Crowley breathed, locking eyes with Aziraphale, his hand returning to the tented fabric at Aziraphale’s crotch. 

Aziraphale moaned as Crowley put his hand down his underwear, gently touching the length. “Anything. Everything. You. Oh, Crowley–“ He gasped as Crowley began to pull his pants off, tossing them onto the floor, narrowly avoiding the discarded glass of wine. Crowley’s pants followed suit seconds later, and he leaned back, lifting Aziraphale up and guiding the angel‘s legs around his waist. 

“Crowley–“ Aziraphale’s voice faded into a moan as Crowley touched his shaft again, his hand sliding slowly up and down. 

“You’re okay,” breathed Crowley, his free hand on the angel’s hip, gently guiding him to grind back and forth, their shafts pressed up against each other. “Do you like that?” 

Aziraphale nodded, panting, soft moans and whimpers still escaping his lips, triggering a throb in Crowley’s cock each time. 

Crowley bent down, kissing those wonderful, whimpering lips, and Aziraphale moaned against him. Slowly, Crowley began to trail kisses downwards, along the angel’s jawline, down his neck, his chest, pausing to suck at his nipples and relishing the way his sweet, sensitive angel arched into the feeling, gasping. Then he moved further downwards, planting kisses on the broad expanse of Aziraphale’s stomach. 

“There’s- ah- there’s no need to spend so much time there,” said Aziraphale, his voice slightly breathless. 

Crowley looked up to see that his angel’s face had gone red. 

“What do you mean?” asked Crowley, already knowing the answer. He’d seen the way Aziraphale looked at himself in the mirror, the way he would always tuck his shirt in a little tighter before leaving, as though trying to smush himself smaller. 

“Oh, it’s just… horribly soft,” said Aziraphale. He chuckled. “Honestly, I can’t believe you’d want this body like this, there are so many others–“ 

Crowley lunged upwards to shut Aziraphale up with a kiss, a sloppy, messy one that he poured all of his love into. 

After a long moment, he pulled back, breathing heavily. “Angel. You are perfect.” He bent back down towards Aziraphale’s stomach. “Your body is perfect.” He kissed the naval, letting his mouth circle outwards, feathering kisses across every inch of skin, whispering between each one. “I love you. I love you. I love every inch of you. Every piece. You look perfect. You are perfect. I love you, Aziraphale, soft and sweet and so smart and sometimes, occasionally, so incredibly stupid. I love every inch of your body.” He finished with another kiss on Aziraphale’s lips, this time leaving the angel breathless. 

Aziraphale stared up into his demon’s eyes. He could feel it, now. Now that he was letting himself feel it. He could feel the waves of love, rolling off of him, filling up the entire room with the strength of it. Aziraphale was stunned he’d never felt it before. 

He pulled Crowley back down into another kiss, moaning softly as their cocks brushed up against one another, pressed together between their stomachs. 

Crowley pulled back with a smirk, wriggling down so that his head was level with Aziraphale’s hips, and kissed the inside of Aziraphale’s thigh, gently, before nipping it ever so slightly with his teeth. 

Aziraphale gasped, his hips bucking up, and Crowley smirked again. “My sensitive angel.” 

“It’s my first ti- oh!” Aziraphale’s words were cut off by another gentle nip, this time on the other side, farther up. Crowley moved up further still, kissing and biting and sucking and working with his tongue, moving ever closer to his goal, to the erection standing up, the smallest drop already glistening at the top. 

Crowley kisses the head of Aziraphale’s cock lightly, and Aziraphale gasped. 

“Do you want this, Angel?” asked Crowley. 

“Oh, Crowley, yes!” gasped Aziraphale. 

Crowley set his hands on Aziraphale’s hips, holding him down, and wrapped his lips around his angel’s head. Aziraphale moaned, trying to thrust upwards, but Crowley held him still, moving ever so slowly down the shaft, licking and sucking and brushing with his teeth, feeling his angel coming undone under his ministrations, each gasp and moan seeming to go straight to his own cock. 

“Oh, Crowley-!” Aziraphale cried out as Crowley began to move up and down, a little faster now, still administering every care to his angel’s length. 

“Crowley, I- I think I’m close-“ gasped Aziraphale. 

Crowley pulled off, smirking at the popping noise he made when he did, and looked down at his angel beneath him. 

Hell, he was gorgeous. Those blue eyes, pupils wide with pleasure, his normally tidy, ash-white curls a disheveled mess, his pink-white chest heaving as he stared up at Crowley. 

For his part, Aziraphale couldn’t believe what was happening as Crowley, the demon- his demon- looked over him, every perfect muscle defined, his mouth wet from going down on Aziraphale, his eyes fixed on the angel’s, those slit pupils wider than Aziraphale had ever seen them, the perfect amber-yellow colour filling the entire rest of the eye. His fiery-red hair was a mess, tangled where Aziraphale’s hands had woven themselves through it, and his perfectly muscles chest was moving up and down in time with Aziraphale’s own. 

“I love you,” breathed Aziraphale, overcome with it all, and Crowley bent down to kiss him again. 

“Crowley,” muttered Aziraphale against his demon’s mouth, and Crowley pulled back, his eyes wandering, hungry. 

Aziraphale forced the words out– he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything, but to say it, to actually voice the desires that he’d been feeling for so many years, decades, centuries if he was being honest– it felt impossible. “Crowley. I want you… inside me. I want you to fuck me.” 

Crowley’s jaw dropped. “Angel, are you, are you sure–“ 

Aziraphale nodded. “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” 

Crowley nodded, and suddenly his hand was slick with lube as he lifted the angel’s legs up, spreading them to give him access to Aziraphale’s entrance. One finger slid slowly down Aziraphale’s crack, playing slowly around the opening, and the angel gasped, moaned, his hands tangling in the sheets. 

“Are you ready?” asked Crowley, looking up at his angel’s face, flushed red, eyes staring at the ceiling. It was all Aziraphale could do to nod. 

Crowley pushed in, slowly, gently, one finger first, giving the angel some time to get used to it. He wanted to skip all this, to miracle the angel ready and go to town, but he had to take it slow. He couldn’t go to fast, not ever again, and besides, what was a few more minutes after six thousand years? 

Aziraphale moaned as Crowley worked, moving his finger around, stroking his walls, moving in and out ever so gently. 

“More, Crowley,” gasped Aziraphale, and Crowley obliged, pushing another finger in, crooking them both just so to hit the bundle of nerves that Crowley knew from experience would feel the best. 

Aziraphale gasped, his back arching, pushing himself downwards, further onto Crowley’s hand. “Oh, Crowley-!” 

“You alright, angel?” asked Crowley, looking up into his angel’s face again. 

Aziraphale locked eyes with him, his whole face flushed, his lips parted and kiss-swollen, nodding almost frantically, and Crowley hit the spot again, eliciting more gasps from his angel, and pushed another finger in, moving in and out, spreading his fingers slightly, budding up a rhythm. 

He could feel Aziraphale, tightening up around his fingers, could feel the way he arched and moaned and gasped, and Crowley knew that if he kept this up he didn’t have long, so he pulled his fingers out, eliciting another soft gasp from the angel. 

Aziraphale felt suddenly empty, open, and he looked up to see Crowley, spreading copious amounts of lube onto his own cock before lining up with Aziraphale’s entrance, his head pressing gently up against it. 

“You’re sure about this, angel?” asked Crowley. 

“Yes, oh, Crowley, please-“ gasped Aziraphale. 

Crowley pushed himself in, forcing himself to go slow, to give his angel time to adjust, relishing in ever gasp and twitch as he entered to the hilt. 

“Are you–“ he began, but to his surprise, the angel began to move, rocking slowly back and forth, and so Crowley synced up, moving gently in and out, his motions growing steadily more forceful as he became sure his angel was alright. 

“Oh, Crowley, harder,” gasped Aziraphale, and Crowley was happy to oblige, ramming himself into Aziraphale at full speed, pulling the angel’s legs up to give himself a better angle, and then Aziraphale gasped, his hands scrambling against Crowley’s chest and then gripping his shoulder so tightly that Crowley knew it would leave marks, and Crowley knew that he’d hit that spot, and he went at it again, harder, not letting up on that bundle of nerves, pounding up against Aziraphale so hard that had he been mortal he surely would’ve broken, but he wasn’t mortal, he was an angel, he was purely divine, those sounds were divine, those motions, the way he felt around Crowley’s cock, pulling him in, tightening and loosening and ever, ever loving, the way he looked underneath Crowley, it was all divine. 

Aziraphale’s wings exploded out from the ethereal plane in which they’d been hidden, and Frowley’s followed suit a second later, not entirely of his own free will. 

“Is… is that-“ gasped Aziraphale. 

Crowley shook his head. “Never happened to me before.” 

He wasn’t going to let it stop him, though, and he buried his hands in Aziraphale’s wings, sparking a delicious moan, and he knew Aziraphale was close as he rammed into him harder and harder, using his wings to buffet himself further and deeper– 

Aziraphale came with a shout, hot cum spilling all over both of their chests, tightening around Crowley, and that was enough to send the demon over the edge too, filling up Aziraphale with the hot white substance. 

They stayed there, shivering, riding out the aftershocks for a long, glorious moment before Crowley pulled out, miracling them both clean and collapsing half-next to and half-on top of his angel. 

“Was that alright, angel?” he asked, smiling, and Aziraphale craned his neck up to kiss Crowley deeply, lovingly. 

“Yes,” said the angel when he’d pulled back. “That was incredible. Absolutely incredible.” 

Crowley’s grin widened, and he pulled his angel closer, letting Aziraphale wrap his broad white wings around the pair of them, cocooning them both into a white blanket of warmth and safety. 

Six thousand years, thought Crowley, was not so long of a wait for that. 

Together, finally, wrapped up in one another and, for the time being, satisfied, both angel and demon fell asleep.


End file.
